The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,27

doors of the cafeteria into a hum of conversation and a cloud of tempting smells. Three faceless utility robots are stationed behind the buffet counter, their plastic-coated synthetic bodies moving in unison as they prepare our dinner. I elbow Asher in amazement, and he lets out a low whistle.

“Yeah, this is different from home, all right.”

We join Lark, Beckett, and Katerina at our table, seconds before Naomi and Suki slide in. Naomi’s eyes are red-rimmed, her expression wary, and I have the unexpected urge to reach across the table, to make her smile. But her head is turned to the front of the room, where Dr. Takumi, General Sokolov, and the rest of the faculty are surveying the scene from an elevated platform. Dr. Takumi rises to his feet, and silence falls over the cafeteria.

“Good evening, finalists,” he greets us. “I imagine right now your families are all in front of their TVs, watching the media coverage from today and feeling immeasurably proud of you.”

If only.

“However, our real work begins tomorrow,” he continues. “During training, you will be expected to push your bodies and minds beyond your limits, beyond fatigue. This is what distinguishes astronauts from amateurs.”

I sit up straighter, hoping Dr. Takumi can see the determination in my face. I won’t be one of the amateurs. Whatever it takes, I won’t let myself slip.

“Throughout this process, you will alternate between learning the skills needed for the arduous journey into deep space and those needed to survive and build a permanent home on Europa. Your focus is critical.” He pauses. “The tools you learn down here could be precisely what saves your life up there.”

The silence in the room seems to thicken at his words. He holds our gaze for one more moment, and then nods approvingly.

“And now, dinner is served. When I call your team name, take a tray and line up at the counter.”

As soon as it’s our turn, I practically shoot out of my chair. One of the utility robots swivels forward as I approach the counter. “Would you like the American meal, the Chinese meal, or both?” it asks in a genderless, mechanical voice.

“Um, both, please?”

I watch in awe as the robot piles fried chicken with collard greens and corn bread onto my plate, before handing me a second dish of mapo tofu and a bowl of shrimp dumpling soup. I can barely remember the last time I ate like this. For a while the only sounds around me are the clatter of silverware scraping against plates as the six of us dig in, until Katerina leans forward.

“Did any of you see the new BBC documentary about Europa?”

“Yeah, my uncle showed it at the White House,” Beckett says through a mouthful of food. I catch Naomi give a slight eye roll at that, and I stifle a laugh.

“Wasn’t it amazing?” Katerina raves. “The coolest part was when they showed how Jupiter appears twenty-four times bigger in Europa’s sky than our own sun looks to us. Can you imagine the view we’d get every day? I think that’s what I’m most looking forward to: sitting out on the ice surface and seeing Jupiter right in front of me, looming large.”

“It’ll definitely put all of Earth’s sights to shame,” Lark agrees, an inscrutable expression crossing her face.

“What I keep thinking about is the landing,” I say, leaning back in my chair as I imagine it. “That moment when we’re the very first to set foot on a whole other part of the universe . . . it’s like we get to be Marco Polo, but on an infinitely bigger scale.”

“Yeah, and the rocket launch,” Asher joins in, his face lighting up. “I’ve watched so many online and always wanted to be up there myself, strapped inside the flight capsule, ready for liftoff. But I never pictured getting to go somewhere so far off the map. That’s the most surreal part about all of this.” He glances at Suki sitting across from him. “What about you?”

There’s a brief pause before Suki answers, her voice quiet but firm. “Getting away from Earth—that’s what I can’t wait for.”

I raise my glass to hers.

“I’m sure we can all toast to that.”

But Naomi shakes her head, stabbing at a piece of corn bread with her fork.

“I don’t get it. You guys are acting like this is a vacation instead of a draft. If we get picked, we could literally explode into flames before we even reach Europa, or wind up starving to death